


Glued to me

by Peanut



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dreams, Fluff and Smut, Jealousy, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-21
Updated: 2012-12-21
Packaged: 2017-11-21 19:58:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,786
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/601514
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peanut/pseuds/Peanut
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sebastian has a problem: Jim’s not his, while he dreams.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Glued to me

Sodding three in the morning.

Sebastian growls as he can’t bring himself to sleep. No reason why: the adrenalin rush from yesterday’s job must have run out of his system by now, he only drank his usual cup of coffee for breakfast and the flat was still and plunged into darkness.  
Why this insomnia then?  
The more he looks for a reason the more awake he grows.  
He isn’t even sexually frustrated. Well, he would love some more action but Jim likes to keep him on the edge, always wanting more, and he knows better than to touch him against his will. Yet the criminal lets him sleep in his bed. As a personal heater, he claims, but they both know he just can’t switch off his mind without the sniper’s steady heartbeat lulling him till he drifts off.  
Jim is currently latched on his chest, sound asleep. The sniper outlines his face with a finger: the wide forehead, the thin nose, the kissable lips. He rests his hand on Jim’s arm and tries to recount all the different ways he could hunt a man down without using today’s technology. 

Jim removes the duvet from their chests but continues to sleep like a log. He was so tired from recording the Storyteller last night that Sebastian had to carry him upstairs, otherwise he’d have slept next to the front door, the brolly stand as a pillow. Sebastian keeps wondering why his boss got this side job: it has nothing to do with their usual line of business, it’s not like he will start killing every child that misses out on an episode.  
Or is he?  
Sebastian doesn’t want to go there. He has been living with the criminal for over five years now, but he hasn’t visited every dirty corner of Jim’s mind yet and doesn’t intend to fill the gaps tonight.  
These thoughts aren’t helping with his sleeplessness. He looks around and sets his eyes on a pills container on the night stand. Jim’s sedatives. He stretches and tries to grab the little bottle, but he can’t quite reach it. Not without moving from underneath his boss. Eventually he gives up and whispers “Jim will you fix it for me?”  
“Will do it for you.”  
Sebastian holds his breath, fearing he woke the criminal up. He expects a pair of dark, sleepy yet murderous eyes locking on his own, but everything stays still. Jim mumbles something else, eyes still closed, and Sebastian is now sure he is talking in his sleep. Didn’t know he did that. Should he worry about his boss starting sleepwalking, too?  
Will do it for you. The sniper wonders who he is dreaming about and what exactly he’d be willing to do for that person. A murder for a client? No, too much intimacy in his tone. A kindness to a fellow criminal? No, Moriarty doesn’t do kind.  
Jim’s smiling now. What the hell? Sebastian will never admit it – not even under torture – but jealousy has her bitchy hand wrapped around the colonel’s heart and is squeezing it now, rendering him breathless.  
Even if they are in the same bed, Jim is not with him right now.  
So close, yet so far away.  
He can feel his Irish heart beating, but he has no clue, who it is beating for. Maybe he is with another man right now, doing unspeakable things to him. Pulling at his hair, applying nipple clamps.. Out of habit, the marksman’s hand reaches out for the gun on his belt, only to find he isn’t wearing one. Of course not, he’s in his pyjamas bottom, but that doesn’t stop him from wanting to kill his boss’s dream man. He can picture it: slowly crawling in the hotel room they booked, quickly snapping the other man’s neck, then slapping Jim hard and bending him over the nearest surface, the other man’s eyes still open.  
Sebastian pauses his delightful daydreaming. He wants to wake Jim up, for some chitchat and to get the reassurance he needs. But then he would have to face the consequences. First of all, Jim will be angry for waking him up in the middle of the night and will start looking for a scalpel or a whip to make this idle time worth it. Second of all, Sebastian will find out who the dream man was and he’s not sure he wants to. Would be a waste of bullets. And it wouldn’t solve the problem: Jim’s not his, while he dreams.

______________________

Already six am. Dawn is close.

Jim can feel the sun rise on London. Not that he’s cared to open his eyes yet. He just knows. Thers’s something in the air. Something changed through the night. Like a stream of electricity only present during the day, coming directly from the sun. He can feel it on his skin: he gets goose bumps. That’s why he likes living in rainy London so much. But not today. Today is going to be an awfully sunny day.  
The criminal’s pillow has slid down on the floor. Fuck. That pillowcase was Armani. Whatever. He is trying to remember every detail of his dream. Committing it to memory. Among loads of nightmares that haunt him, this one was good. Very good.  
He saw this tall bloke in a café. An underwater café. He never approaches people without knowing them down to the smallest detail. Never has, never will. This was a onetime only. He was nervous at first, as the man seemed reluctant to talk and answered his questions in monosyllables. He let the small talk technique go and, while a goldfish passed through them, he went straight for the question that had been buzzing his mind all night long: “Why are you wearing a pink leather jacket?”. The man’s head finally turned to look at Jim and he got tangled up by a pair of menacing blue eyes. They stared at each other for ages and Jim’s legs started to shake. His legs never shook in his entire life. Who the hell was this man? Eventually, the stranger’s lips curled up and he said “I lost a bet”. That’s when Jim recognized Sebastian. The scar on his nose, his dirty blonde hair, his coy smile. “Could you do me a favour and burn it for me?”  
Jim chuckled. “Will do it for you. If you do something for me…” his eyes pointing at the booth he was sitting in, “Kill the octopus that has been trying to touch me with his clammy tentacles all night”. Sebastian looked at the octopus, who nodded and raised his glass at the sniper. Turning his head back, Sebastian leaned toward Jim and whispered in his ear “For you.”  
Jim was so turned on. By Sebastian’s breath brushing his neck, by the murderous look in his face as he stood up, by the way his hips swayed as he walked to the booth. Then the firm grip of his hand around the octopus’ rather inexistent neck and the sound of the animal being slammed on the table did it for Jim and he decided then and there that he wanted the colonel. He couldn’t wait for them to go home, so he strolled to the booth, took Sebastian’s hand and dragged him to the restroom. 

______________________

Fast awake now. His cold feet move under the duvet, looking for Sebastian’s as he turns around to face his sniper.  
“Hi gorgeous” Jim says quietly, as his lips open up in a smile, waiting for a good morning kiss, because that’s how they habitually start into a new day. Sebastian’s only response was to turn to the other side, pull the blankets over his head and kick his boss away.  
And goodbye morning sex – Jim thinks.  
“So much for a loving greeting.”  
A muffled, grumpy sound comes from the colonel side.  
Jim pulls himself up on his elbow. “What’s wrong with you?”  
“Nothing.”  
“Seb.” He starts pulling down the cover to look at the sniper’s face.  
“What do you want?” An icy gaze addresses Jim.  
“A kiss and a smile would be perfect.”  
“Go ask the mystery man you spent the whole night with.”  
“What?” The criminal frowns at Sebastian. “Who are you talking about? I was right here! With you!”  
“Right.” The sniper turns to face the wall again.  
“Seb. Tell me.” His voice hardens and the colonel knows that’s not a request.  
“Couldn’t sleep. Heard you talking in your sleep. You had that smutty smile on your face.”  
Jim stares at him wide-eyed but stays silent for a moment.  
“And you deduced I was having my filthy way with another man?”  
“That smile does not appear on your face while you’re working, does it?” A light snort slips out of him. “I hope not. Poor kids.”  
“It does not. You’re the only one that can pull it out of me” answers Jim coolly.  
“Was the only one.”  
“Are.”  
“…”  
Sebastian’s head snaps toward the criminal, a questioning look on his face.  
“It’s you I’ve been dreaming of.” explains the Irishman.  
“What? No.. What?” Astonishment all over the blonde man’s face.  
“We met in a bar, you killed an octopus for me, I blew you in the restroom. Easy peasy.” Jim’s eyes twinkle with lust.  
“That.. sounds legit” says Sebastian, ironic but still startled.  
“You don’t believe me?” Jim’s left hand starts wandering down Sebastian’s chest. “Do you want me to show you what really happened?”  
The sniper raises a brow. “I doubt you can find an octopus on such a short notice.”  
“I could play the octopus and you could bang me over that table” his head points to the table next to the door, the one that already bears the marks of past attacks.  
“That would be nice but wouldn’t solve the problem.”  
“What problem? Your jealousy?” A smile appears on the criminal’s lips. “I think it’s actually kind of cute, Seb…”  
“I’m not jealous! Of an octopus? Definitely not jealous.” A little blush colours the sniper’s cheeks.  
“Than what is it?” Jim is quite curious. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t read the blonde man.  
“You once said you’re mine. Is that statement still valid?”  
“Only if you keep doing that thing with your tongue, you know, the one wh..”  
“Jim. I’m serious.”  
“Yours to hold, yours to cherish. And yours to fuck, shag, screw, whip, tie u..”  
“Jim.”  
“Sorry. Got carried away. Go on.”  
Sebastian sighs. “You’re not mine while you dream.”  
“I guess not.. Well, it’s not like I can promise you I’ll stop dreaming.”  
“You could stop sleeping altogether” suggests the sniper, only half way joking.  
“You’d have to keep me awake…” the Irishman’s hand starts wandering down his lover’s chest again.  
“I do know a trick or two…they all involve handcuffs…” his skin starts burning under the other man’s touch. “And I would finally have the duvet all to myself…”  
“Hey, how come you are allowed to sleep and dream?” Jim pinches at one nipple.   
“Ow!” The sniper’s hand raises to go cover the squeezed skin. “I don’t dream.”  
“Not at all?? Did they teach you that at military academy?”  
“Sure! It’s lesson n°4, followed by the 'How to fake a fainting when a bear attacks' seminar.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. “It’s been ages since the last time I woke up and could recall a dream.”  
“Mmhmm” Jim is thoughtful for one moment, then a spark appears in his eyes.  
“Let’s make a pact. I promise to abstain from any sex dream featuring other men or women.. ”  
“Or shellfishes.” Specifies Sebastian.  
“or shellfishes, and you promise to let me bomb Santa Claus’ factory. ” The criminal’s eyes light up, his mind already organizing the dropping of the bomb.  
Sebastian promptly scowls at him. “How about you wake up as soon as you realise you’re in one of those dreams and I allow you to kidnap Rudolph and blackmail Santa?”  
“Deal!” Jim squeaks in delight.  
Sebastian’s lips find his and – although Jim knows it’s just to shut him up – he doesn’t push him away; if anything, he deepens the kiss, exploring every bit of the other man’s mouth. He moans as the colonel starts nipping at his jaw and leaves a trail of wet kisses down his neck. They both know where this tell tale pattern will lead to, but suddenly Sebastian stops and raises his head thoughtful. Jim whimpers in response and asks warily: “What’s wrong?”  
“You know what? I just spent a night in hell, because of you and your stupid grin. I think you should make it up to me. You want me to go down? Earn it!”  
Sebastian knows it’s a long shot, Jim would never let him in charge because he hates to be ordered around but, what the hell, Sebastian is just happy he tried to start this new game and now he’s waiting for the predictable slap. What he does not foresee is for the criminal to look curiously into his eyes and say: “That’s not playing fair, but alright… What should I do?”  
The astounded sniper gapes at his boss for a few seconds, then smirks and resumes the neck biting. “You say… something nice… about me… and my lips… will slide 10 inches… down your body” he says among kisses. “Choose wisely.”  
“Something nice?” Jim is already unable to think quite straight, but he will give it a go. “Ok.”  
Just say the first thing that comes to mind.  
“I want you always by my side.”  
Sebastian’s lips move to the left, playfully nibbling at the soft skin around the collarbone, the indication being: not good enough. He does give his boss a suggestion, though, starting the next sentence: “Because….”  
“Because you’re a damn good shag.”  
The colonel quits the nibbling and heads down to a nipple to twist and tease it to hardness. Jim likes the way his skillful lover draws a groan out of him, but focuses on the next step.  
“Because you keep me from going insane: you have the patience of a saint.”  
Sebastian hums in agreement and licks his way down the criminal’s stomach heading to his navel, but stops an inch before it and starts kissing his skin from hip to hip. Jim whimpers and rolls his back up, but the sniper keeps his body away to deny him the contact he’s looking for. The criminal can’t stand it anymore and pulls out the big guns, screaming: “Because I love you!”  
Sebastian looks up to Jim, his eyes glinting with joy. It’s a sentence he doesn’t hear often. The Irishman is sure he hit the bull’s eye and relaxes a bit, already relishing the sensation of his lover’s mouth around his cock, only to be sorely disappointed by the sight of Sebastian’s lips at his right knee.  
He snaps: “What the fuck, Sebastian? Are you trying to kill me?”  
“I’m just giving you the right credit for your sentence. You earned 25 inches with that! Bravo!” He chuckles. “I did tell you to choose wisely…” Here comes the slap – Sebastian thinks.  
Jim lets out a frustrated groan. “What now?” Unpredictable. As always.  
“You’re the genius. Figure it out. I think a simple subtraction will do the trick….” drawing small circles with the tip of his tongue on his boss’s lower tight.  
Subtraction? Does that mean… ? Is he really suggesting….?  
“You’re annoying when you chain-smoke the whole day, after I warn you about your addiction. I know you do it just to madden me.” The blonde man works his way up his inner tight with feather like kisses.  
“You eat like an animal.” His briefs are shoved down his legs and Sebastian’s mouth rests on his groin, but not quite there.  
Jim is careful now, weighing each word. So close. “I don’t particularly like when you leave the toothpaste open.” Sebastian glances up at him. “But I can live with it.” He holds his breath.  
Sebastian smirks, runs his tongue along his boss’s length and finally wraps his mouth around Jim’s cock. The Irishman closes his eyes, presses his head back against the mattress and moans loudly as his lover starts sucking hard. He is taking him as far as he can and it drives Jim crazy, making him growl from the back of his throat. The skillful tongue slides across the head of his cock and he gasps “Yours. Fuck all yours.” The sniper takes him over the tipping point, gloating when Jim screams his name as he comes.

______________________________

 

Sebastian is now lying across Jim’s chest, while the criminal tries to calm his heavy breathing.  
“Jim.”  
“Yes, love?”  
“Just tell me about your dreams.”  
“Will do it for you.”

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for any grammar mistake! English is not my mothertongue.  
> Inspired by an Italian song. Got me thinking: what would Jim do in this situation?


End file.
